


Blizzard

by heinesteiner



Category: DOGS (Manga)
Genre: Gen, Skii AU, Skiing, badou takes a nap, gio and heine duke it out on the slopes, which is exactly as it sounds... everyone skis, will add tags as this gets longer !
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-28 17:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6339376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heinesteiner/pseuds/heinesteiner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heine skis. Badou also skis, though not nearly as well. Heine feels it frees him of his troubles, that he can empty his mind on the slopes. A storm has settled in and with it comes Giovanni, ready to pick a fight on the trails. Despite the weather, he challenges Heine. Worries and concerns build up, and feelings overflow as they glide through the snow. Nothing goes well when skiing in a blizzard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> heya its me, posting a fic after a very long time. ive got a few others stored up but idk if ill post them so without further ado... the fic. 
> 
> ps. im sorry if u dont understand any ski terms used. if u have any questions lemme know!!

“She’s dead.”

The words hung in the air, weighing heavily on him. It was a bad fall, but she couldn’t be dead. The red staining the snow was not her blood. Two people lifted her limp body gently, setting it onto a stretcher. Giovanni cried beside it, wailing at the sky.

Heine turned away from the scene, eyes wide in shock. She had been doing so well, she couldn’t be dead. Tears threatened to form, but he swallowed the empty feelings. His throat felt dry. The world had turned its back on them again.

“Lily,” He whispered, fingers pulling at the edges of his jacket. They pulled at loose strings, unraveling it more. “You were supposed to win.” And she _was_ supposed to win; she trained all season just for this moment. She spent every penny on her equipment, and worked tirelessly. It was a tiny mistake.

He repeated her name, as if that would bring her back. It did not. Her blood stained the snow, red footprints leading away from the scene. Bystanders looked on in shock, some in curiosity. Each look made him sick.

Heine threw up on the side of the trail.

He retched until there was only bile left to choke up.


	2. Downhill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meet the whole crew in present time!! youll get to see badou more i swear.

The wind whisked past him, nipping at the exposed patches of skin on his cheeks. If he hadn’t been wearing goggles, his eyes would be frozen shut for sure. Fingers gripped the poles tightly as he slip down the slope. Despite the harsh conditions, he had an air of confidence and carved the slope with ease.

Halfway down, he switched and faced up the mountain. The view of the peak didn’t last for long, as he pivoted his head to gaze over his shoulder and down the slope. Despite the lack of people on the trail, he still needed to know where the slope’s edges faded into the forest. The wind continued to howl around him, tearing at his thick clothes. Facing away helped only slightly.

The trees lined the trail, showing a narrowing pathway down the mountain. He used it as a guide. Go this way, then that, and don’t stray from where it twists and turns. Sometimes it split and he’d have to choose between two options, but there hadn’t been one of those for a while. Eyes settled on the forest as he began a turn, making sure he would be clear of them.

But one ski hit a patch of ice as he glided away from the woods. He was shocked at the miscalculation; he hadn't made such a mistake in a long time.

The ski caught on the ice, sending said it in the opposite direction of where he wanted to go. Shit. 

The backs of the skis crossed, and he tripped, slamming into a tree at the edge of the trail before collapsing. His skis managed to stay on, but now threatened to drag him through the ungroomed powder of the woods.

He lay winded for few minutes, gazing up at the falling snow. The position of his skis put strain on his ankles, and generally made him very uncomfortable, but he couldn’t bring himself to move them. There was a dull throb in his shoulder. 

“Ugh…” A few grunts and a groan accompanied movement. “G… uh…” He rolled over, trying to move his skis to a less painful position. It didn’t help.

A low hum reached his ears a few moments after his failed attempts. It grew louder, and was recognizable as that of a snowmobile. The only ones allowed up here were of the ski patrol. He let out a sigh of relief, and tried to prop himself up far enough to see the oncoming vehicle. The aching shoulder gave out and he collapsed into his snowy prison.

The noise became a low hum again, this time joined by voices. They were indistinct mumbles to him. He shifted over slightly, grunting. Footsteps. Mutters became words. A shadow leaned over him, and gentle hands examined his body. When they moved his shoulder, he jerked it away in haste.

“The right shoulder?” A silkier voice than many of the other skiers in the patrol. “No, it isn’t dislocated. Perhaps a bit bruised. He just looks winded.” There was a moment of silence before the man spoke again. “Yes, we’ll take him down. No one should’ve been up in the storm, anyway… We don’t count!”

The two patrollers helped Heine up with care after assuring him everything was fine. They steadied his feet and led him to the snowmobile, popping off his skis and dumping them in the back compartment with his poles. The taller one, who was speaking earlier, sat him on the vehicle, instructing him to hold on tight, but that they wouldn’t be going very fast. He had long hair, which trailed out from under his helmet and almost to his waist. The other did as well, though hers was a bit shorter.

She was also shorter height-wise, coming up a bit below the man’s shoulder. Her gloves were thin and she frequently signed messages to the other. He would give nods or short replies; Heine was shocked he could see anything through his dark goggles.

Surprisingly, the man was not driving, even though he was the one to help move Heine onto the vehicle. He was popping his skis back on and readying for the trek down. Instead the lady, he gathered her name was Nill, sat in front of him and drove them down the slope. The other skied beside, occasionally checking on the two.

They arrived at the lodge without mishap. Nill helped him off and the other instructed him to get first aid if anything felt worse. He complied, of course, and headed inside, which was packed, much to his dismay.

Heine found where he and Badou had dumped their equipment and shoes (as well as snacks, however most of those were long gone). There was an ashtray full of snubbed out cigarettes. Typical. 

Badou was asleep on the table with his head in his arms, a thin trail drool threatening to drip onto the table. Thank god he wasn’t snoring. It was annoying he kept dozing off every time they came inside; no one to watch over their belongings. Heine nudged him over to make room for himself. The redhead stirred and grunted, then shot straight up, blabbering.

“Yer back!” He slapped Heine on the back with a grin. Heine’s face twitched in pain. “You were out for so long I almost thought I’d have’ta go lookin’ for ya.”

“I told you I’d be back,” Heine replied, easing off his helmet. “Show some patience, will you? Besides, you were out cold until I got here.”

“Was I…?”

“’Course you were. You always sleep after a few runs. Doesn’t matter, it’s snowing hella bad out there, anyway. I’m not letting your slow ass on the slopes.”

“What?” Badou huffed and pouted, but his gaze was directed out the window and into the snow. Snow fell hard, almost creating whiteout conditions. “Oh, shit. That’s bad! You were out there? You okay?” He fretted over Heine for a few moments, checking every part of his body for injuries. Heine gave him an assuring smile. No need to worry him.

As Badou gave him another once over, a familiar snicker interrupted them. In unison the two turned, both wearing expressions of disgust. The blond man smirked in response and gave an amused snort. “Hullo, Heine,” He tilted his head and pulled his goggles down. They were still that ridiculous orange-white combo. “Let’s race.”


End file.
